• Janna Liggan

THE PROMISED LAND (Poem)

The perfect name for a bar,

we all agreed as we made our way

up the dark, wooden staircase

and the thick drawn curtain

to our allotted space,

where writers come to read.

Mondays we’d meet,

order beers and wine, chips and soup

with our discount from the bibliophile

owner who always watched

from the back, by the bar.

Sometimes three, sometimes thirty

would come to listen, and read,

and we’d wait, pages clutched

in white knuckles, crushing carefully

crafted words, secrets we didn’t think

we’d ever actually share—

Especially through a mic!

That waited by the tall table and

high seated chair, waited,

for trembling hands and wavering voices

that always grew strong, and quickened

once the first few words were thrown

out, and forgotten.

#JannaLiggan #ThePromisedLand

11 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

MINE